


Goodnight Moon

by BearlyMadeIt



Category: iZombie (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fix-It, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Lies, Love, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Military Background, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Sneaking Around, Tags May Change, Terrible Awkward Double Dates, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearlyMadeIt/pseuds/BearlyMadeIt
Summary: Dating a subordinate is never a good idea.But Chase Graves can't stop. Major is the best thing in his life since... he can't actually remember.
Relationships: Chase Graves/Major Lilywhite, Ravi Chakrabarti & Chase Graves, Ravi Chakrabarti/Peyton Charles
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the start of 4x10. Come on, how couldn't I?

Chase Graves, commander of Fillmore Graves, once a military contracting company, nowadays more of a city wide army to keep the peace, had the terrible habit of joining in on locker room banter, no matter the topic. When he caught the tail end of 

"... tugging Chase Graves into bed!"

Followed by laughter, followed by even worse, poor Lilywhite not at all looking amused, he really couldn't resist.

\---

“Why did you tell them?” Major asked while pulling off his shirt, partly amused, partly actually worried.

Chase, who was already laying in bed, snorted. “I just joined in on the fun. They didn’t believe me, did they?”

“Haha, very funny. They’ll talk.”

Another chuckle. Even a smirk. His lover was seriously not taking him serious. Why the fuck had he told everyone within earshot he liked his goodnight kisses deep and dirty? Major wouldn't be able to live that one down for ages.

“They always talk. Give it a week and something else will be top news.”

“But -”

“We are careful enough. They won’t think anything of it. Now, get your ass in here, Lilywhite, before I change my mind.”

Major snorted amused. “As if.” Chase could probably not even sleep without him, but he knew better than to push him. Especially today.

Snuggling against Chase’s chest, with arms wrapped around him in record time, Major sighed content, listening to his odd, slow heartbeat. Chase was still alive, in whatever variation of the word.

“What?” Chase asked softly.

“Just…” He sighed, not saying more, but the embrace around him tightened.

“I’m okay.”

“You nearly got killed!”

“You want to cry every time someone shoots me? You’ll never be done.”

Major huffed lowly. “Your knees look the very definition of not okay.”

“Give it a day or two. Even though…” He moved his right leg. “I might have to open up the wound. Something is stuck in there.”

Major grimaced and shifted to look at him. “If you need help -”

“I don’t need babying. Like I said, not the first time I got shot. Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. I’m not made of glass.”

An arm pulled him back against his chest, effectively ending the conversation. Major grumbled lowly. Part of him wanted to sit up, look at him, talk about this whether Chase wanted to or not. He had nearly died, god dammit, he should talk about this, he –

But what would he tell him anyway? That he had been afraid? Terrified? As if. Chase wasn’t someone to talk about his fears much. Or his worries.

Humming lowly, he propped himself up on his elbows, watching the expression shift on Chase’s face. From somewhat relaxed and deep in thoughts to a frown, eyes hardening.

“What?” He asked again, not so soft this time.

“Just looking.” Major shot back before he could dwell too much on it and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Chase’s. His lover made a surprised little noise and tightened his embrace, while Major deepened their kiss.

Against better judgment, they moved a lot. Rolling around, shifting, changing who was on top, all the while kissing, hands moving. Still, no matter what Chase said or didn’t say, he was in pain. A wince here and there, the grunt he couldn’t stifle, and the occasional grimace Major caught through half-closed lids and felt against his face.

Eventually, Chase rolled off him and dropped on his side of the bed, sighing relieved. Major decidedly ignored the sound and snuggled against his chest. An arm wrapped around him and Chase sighed again, this time happy and content. For a while, no one said a word. The only sound was their breathing – and for Major Chase’s heartbeat.

“So…” Major said into the quiet, not even knowing if Chase was still awake. “What about Goodnight Moon?”

A snort close to his ear was answer enough. “You want to read it to me?”

“Definitely!” He said with lots of fake enthusiasm, barely holding in his chuckle.

Grabbing his phone, he found the text, and started to say good night to everything and anything, including cows jumping over moons, bears, and old ladies whispering “hush”.

“Goodnight, Chase.” He ended and glanced at the man beside him. His amused smirk fading into a smile when he saw his relaxed composure, eyes closed.

“Sleep well.” He whispered lowly and pecked his cheek.

“Mm… that wasn’t my goodnight kiss.”

Major snorted and leaned down to kiss him, tongue and all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on, and canon-divergence from 4x11 - Insane in the Germ Brain. God, that episode upset me so much.

Despite being handcuffed to a chair, light blinding him, and having absolutely no clue where he was, Major smiled.

“What was your pet as a child?”

“Pink, flying unicorn rabbit.” He lied on the spot, trying to give ever more ridiculous answers. The Asian guy, seemingly the leader of the odd group in front of him, groaned.

“How much longer?”

“Should be any minute now.” Russ, the only zombie and the only guy he knew by name, stated. Major kept on smiling. Until now he was going strong, giving lies to every question asked. Maybe it wouldn’t even work. Maybe the brain they had forced him to eat was only show and nothing more. As if it could make him unable to lie. There was no such thing. He would just keep going, lie his ass off and gain their trust, mission accomplished. And in case the brain did work… hopefully they wouldn’t be able to distinguish between him telling the truth and lying anymore. He just had to make it sound sarcastic enough.

Asian guy sighed and checked his watch, kept looking at it.

“Is the minute up?” Major asked sweetly.

“We’ll wait two.” Asian guy stated and turned his back towards him, shaking his head. “Next time try to recruit someone less chatty.”

“As if I had a choice.” Russ said.

“Hey, I don’t usually talk so much. Has to be because of the handcuffs. Something in steel just really gets me going.”

“Don’t even think about laughing.” Asian guy said, staring at Russ grimly. “He is getting on my nerves.”

“Think about what Graves has to endure with him.” Russ said amused, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Have you ever considered sleeping with him, Major?”

“Has it crossed my mind?” Major took a breath, deciding he would go with no. This one was too personal for his taste. He would just spin up another lie and - “Eh. Yeah. I mean, look how he’s built. Where does he even find the time to work out? But it’s not as if I have Chase Graves taped up in my locker.”

What the damn hell?

Russ looked slightly startled while Asian guy smirked. “Here we go.” He stepped closer, directly into the light of the lamp, getting face to face with him. “Are you with us or Fillmore Graves?”

Major smiled. He just had to say us. U and an s. Or you, if he wanted to answer grammatically correct. Couldn’t be so hard. Just one letter more.

“Fillmore Graves, duh.” Came out of his mouth.

\---

The rest of his plan went off without a hitch. Major only worried about getting killed for about a second, until a flashbang flew into the room, his squad behind him, guns drawn, orders yelled. Asian guy raised a hand in surrender and placed his own gun on the ground and even Russ didn’t make a fuss.

Once the zombie was sedated and Major free of the damn handcuffs, he borrowed Jordan’s mobile phone.

“Do you have this under control?” He asked his rookies. It looked under control to him, but still. Russ was zip-tied and out, the three humans zip-tied as well, looking annoyed, angry, and worried.

“Yes, sir.” They answered, never in full unison. One day he had to work on that.

“Have an eye on Russ, just in case.” Major said and moved away from the group until he had a bit of privacy.

He dialed Chase’s number, eagerly waiting for him to pick up. He wanted to tell him. Brag to him. Show off. Look who had gotten things done!

“Graves.”

“Hello, handsome.” Oh, come on! He hadn’t even been asked anything! “We have the brain dealers, sir.” He hurried to add, while he looked around. Had anyone heard him?

“Ehm…” Chase was silent, obviously processing his choice of words. “Where are you?”

Major stated their coordinates.

“Perfect, we’ll be right there.”

“Sir. What about the humans, sir? Shall I call the PD and pass them onto them? Or do we keep them for interrogation?”

He would love to give Asian guy some of his own medicine. Or Russ for that matter.

Another pause. This time of the thinking variation. What could they know which might be of interest to Fillmore Graves? Maybe something which could spell trouble for them down the line?

“Let them handle it. I’ll ask for reports.”

“Yes, sir.”

He killed the call before Chase could ask anything else. He didn’t want to blurt out even more. Returning to his rookies, he glanced at them, all three highly focused and staring at their targets, and called the Police Department.

\---

The rest of the day rushed by in an odd blur.

One moment, Major leaned against a wall of the warehouse, his squad nearby, and watched Chase order people around, yell commands and somehow simultaneously talk with Dale Bozzio, the head of the PD. Fillmore Graves soldiers’ rushed by, collecting evidence, confiscating boxes, and Liv Moore, his ex-fiancé who was with the PD, stared daggers at him from across the room.

Then Chase spotted him, even though Major was pretty sure he had seen him at first glance. “Lilywhite! Take your squad and get him” he motioned his head towards Russ “into deep-freeze.”

“Yes, sir.” Major replied, happy he couldn’t screw up that answer.

The next moment, he sat in a driving truck, their driver endlessly complaining about the wall, no more Seahawk games, his kids, and that his damn wife had stolen his dog.

“She was out the city the very same night. Can you believe it? With my dog! Urgh.”

Did he need to reply to that?

“Major?” yelled Jones from the back. “I think he wakes up.”

“Just sedate -” but Major never finished his sentence. Shots rang out, Jones screamed, and Russ managed to escape.

He remembered rushing down streets, Jordan and Fisher at his heels, screaming, but he didn’t listen. Didn’t even care. His eyes were blazing red and his mind had vanished except one single thought: Stop Russ. Everything else was background noise. He came back around, hissing and growling, sitting on the sidewalk (?), something beneath him, with Jordan screaming in his face. He stared at her with wide eyes, panting, and realized he was in the process of killing Russ.

And then, he was sure he was missing a few important pieces, he sat in a bar, a drink in hand, with his fellow Fillmore Graves colleagues partying the night away, music blaring, laughter, yelled conversations. He watched Chase move through the crowd, chatting, laughing, making jokes. He would stop by him earlier or later. Major shivered, and it wasn’t the good kind of shiver. What he might say to him. Here, in public, with literally the entire company within earshot.

Abruptly turning around on his stool, he yelled: “Hey! Don. E! I need a brain asap.”

Don. E, the owner/bartender of the place, glanced at him. “What?”

“Hurry up!”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to tell you my deepest, darkest secrets!”

Oh, come on, fucking loose-lipped truth-teller brain.

At least, he got his undivided attention. Don. E moved to him, looking at him curiously. “Like what?”

That fucking bastard. Major took a breath, probably the only way he could delay answering. Don’t say Chase Graves, don’t say Chase Graves, don’t say Chase Graves! He pleaded with himself. He had other secrets for god’s sake. Just go with – he forced his thoughts around in a frenzy, ended with Liv. Her starring daggers at him earlier.

“I still love Liv!” He heard himself blurt out. “I mean, how couldn’t I? We were together for so long. I always thought we would be married by now, maybe have a kid.” He sighed thinking back of those old plans. Like a life ago. Or a death. “I don’t want that anymore, though. She’s a damn bitch lately. Could have gotten me killed only a little ago and she didn’t even apologize! Can you imagine?!”

Don. E grinned. “Truth brain? Heard there are a few around.”

“Yes! They had a full container of the damn thing!” Wasn’t that classified information by now? Chase surely wouldn’t appreciate him spreading the news.

“Curious. Anyway, non-blue we have stripper, comedian, or k-pop singer.”

“Oh, the stripper would -” he bit down on his tongue. Hard. And still heard himself mumble on incomprehensible words.

“Comedian, please.” He said with a weak sigh once he was done mumbling.

“Sure thing. Don’t tell anyone your kinks while I’m gone.”

“Lately, it’s having sex on a table!” Major yelled and cursed himself while doing so.

About five minutes later the new brain kicked in. The man who had donated his head to their cause may have been a comedian by day or night, whenever he was performing his jokes, but his true passion had been photography. Accordingly, Major dashed around, taking photos of his amused, partying colleagues, and whined non-stop about the lighting, the quality of his phone camera, and people moving too much.

“Can’t you up the light like a little bit? It would make a tremendous difference!” He yelled at Don. E while ordering a new drink.

“Hell no! Would ruin the mood!” Don. E yelled back, but still got him his drink.

“I heard you like it on tables.” Chase said, his lips right by his ear. A shiver, one of the good ones this time, ran down his spine, making him exhale audibly.

“Yes, sir. No help denying it.” As if Chase wouldn’t know in the first place. This entire table thing was his business.

Chase only smirked, sending another shiver down his spine. He knew exactly what they would do tonight.

“How did everything go?” Chase asked, changing the topic.

Major, distracted by a guy playing air-guitar and headbanging a little away, said: “Russ escaped.”

“What?!”

His eyes flipped back to Chase. “We caught him again, don’t worry! Should have led with that. He’s in the freezer. Good god, I’m sorry.”

The expression of relief on Chase’s face was so perfect, that Major yelled “Don’t move!”, and backed away, taking a photo. All he got was a death glare staring at him from the screen.

Whatever either of them wanted to say died in sudden cheering. Major turned, watched Chase do the same from the corner of his eye. Justin had climbed on a table and was slowly and teasingly pulling off his shirt.

\---

Hours later, Major finally walked down a hotel corridor, luckily finding nothing worth any sudden photo-taking aspirations. He unlocked the door with his key card and got yanked inside with a yelp. Chase’s lips were on his a second later, a rough, needy kiss. The door fell shut and then he was pinned against it, Chase pressing up against his body.

“What took you so long?” Chase asked in a tiny pause while they migrated through the room.

“Jordan caught me up in -” but he stopped. Chase already knew the reason. Jordan and something and that was enough for now. Major pressed his lips against Chase’s again, his hands busy moving along those perfect abs, pushing his shirt upwards.

Little later, Major found himself holding onto the promised table, grunting and moaning, feeling dizzy and hot and loved and… his eyes were fixed on the pink turning sky. He really had to – he closed his eyes, felt the brain shut up, and moaned when Chase hit that perfect spot.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to update this chapter quite a few times, especially the ending. This damn story is shifting and twisting around, but I think I got it now.
> 
> Still, I'm sorry.

Waking up, Chase didn’t bother opening his eyes. He felt Major’s weight on top of him, partly at least, his head resting on his chest and an arm thrown across his waist, heard his soft, slow breathing. His body felt warm against his. Nearly… nearly normal. Nearly peaceful. Eventually, he opened his eyes, glanced at the clock on the bedside table. 8 AM.

“Look at that.” He whispered with a smile. 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep. (And 2 hours late to work, but who was counting?) He hadn’t slept so long since… since he had heard of Vivian’s death. His sister-in-law, blown into a thousand… He pushed the thought aside by focusing on Major, watching his sleeping, oblivious face. His hands tracing along his back, down his spine, like usual mapping the dips and valleys of his body as if he wouldn’t know them by heart.

“We had a win yesterday. Got the brain problem solved.” He told himself, trying to get his mood up, distract from the other dark thoughts in his head. Like usual, the opposite happened. The brain problem… it wasn’t actually solved, was it? They had more brains, in a way, yes, but those had been in circulation before. Stolen from their shipments, sold for money, but sold, nonetheless. Given out, earlier or later, one way or another. They wouldn’t suddenly have more brains. All they could do was control the distribution better.

Just like that, his good mood, the joy of having slept three hours at a time, of having a naked Major sprawled out on top of him and drooling on him – what the hell was he dreaming? – of having had awesome sex and, damn, gotten a win, evaporated.

If they still couldn’t feed the city… Zombies would start losing control sooner rather than later, crashing open the skulls of their very human neighbors in search of food, and once the first domino fell... If he was lucky, whatever _lucky_ actually meant, he wouldn’t have to watch long. General Miller wouldn’t take chances with them. Hell, he wouldn’t take chances with them either, if he would be in his place. Just finally use the A-bomb and blast Seattle and surroundings from the surface of the Earth. Zombiism would simply vanish. Problem solved.

With his stomach in its usual knots and every corner of his mind filled with worries, Chase sighed, his fingers still dancing across Major’s back, like a memory of a memory of better times.

“We are so fucked, Major.” He whispered. He would never tell him when awake. He had to at least pretend to have everything under control. As the head of Fillmore Graves, he had to be confident, sure of himself and what he did. Handle every and all bullshit swimming their way before it could get too big to handle. Even though he had no idea how to tackle all the madness, all at the same time.

Parts of his own company were against him, he was sure of that. Vivi had been blown up for God’s sake, plan B had been initiated, which needed more than the handful of traitors he had shot. Renegade Two was smuggling ever more humans into Seattle and turning them into zombies, adding to the brain shortage problem. The once-zombie-then-human-then-murdered major still had to be handled or rather his killer found, even though at least that wasn’t his problem, it was Bozzio’s, but he couldn’t just forget about it. And, last but not least, the crazy preacher calling himself Brother Love. Telling zombies to go get their brains off the streets… Maybe civil war and the A-bomb were all so much closer than he guessed. Maybe… hell, maybe he should just start gunning down a portion of zombies every day until he could feed the rest. Couldn’t hurt his publicity – what image anyway? - and would solve his food problem. _If_ he caught the human smugglers.

Thinking of…

He moved carefully, slipped away from Major, who grumbled in his sleep, probably complaining his pillow was suddenly moving, got his smartphone, and pulled the newest number of brain rations given out last week. Easiest way to track his problem.

10 more than the week prior.

He had the sudden urge to hurl his phone across the room, to watch it burst into pieces, even though it had nothing to do with any of it. It was just the messenger.

Looking at Major, he smiled sadly. Part of him wanted to snuggle back into bed, hug him, forget his damn problem, the whole lot of them. Maybe he could doze a bit, watch him wake up, and…

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t go back to sleep. He had problems to deal with. Prepare Russ’ interrogation, get lazy, still drunk asses to write their reports, shift through the evidence, call up Bozzio for her status, make sure Brother Love hadn’t started murdering humans overnight... God, if only he just could. Maybe he should just disappear. Drop off the face of the Earth, get out of Seattle. Let someone else deal with his problems.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” He whispered and settled on the edge of the bed, taking one last look at sleeping Major. If only he hadn’t checked his phone… but he had and he had to deal with it. Reaching out, he carefully shook him, said his name. Major jerked upright, looking both groggy and alert. His adorable expression made him laugh no matter what, made him lean in and kiss him. Gentle and soft first, nothing more than pecks, until Major kissed him back. Chase deepened the kiss then, hungry and needy and longing, with lots of tongue, just like his goodnight kisses. If only he hadn’t checked his damn phone. He shouldn’t even have checked the time. Just kept his eyes closed and enjoyed what he had.

“Mmm… up for a second round?” Major whispered when they eventually broke apart, his fingers stroking along Chase’s abs and chest.

“Sorry to disappoint. Just a wake-up call.” He said, kissed the corner of his mouth and pulled away from his oh-so-perfect distraction.

Major grumbled and dropped back into bed. “One day I’ll get it.” A tiny pause. “You.” He added amused.

“Technically, we had morning sex a few hours ago.”

“Technically, we slept afterward so it doesn’t count.”

“Hm-hm.”

Chase took a quick shower, finding his lover still in bed, but at least awake when he returned, eyes glued to his body while he pulled on clothes.

He heard Major shift around in bed, grunt a little. Throwing a glance at him, he saw him holding his phone. Aimed towards him, even though he tried to be inconspicuous about it. Major stared at the screen, his forehead furrowed in concentration.

“You aren’t taking photos, are you?”

Major blinked. His eyes flipped up to meet his, looking caught. “No?”

Chase sighed lowly. “Make sure no one else sees them.”

Major smiled at him and returned to staring at the screen. Oh, to hell with it. Hopefully, photos of him on Major’s smartphone wouldn’t become another one of his problems. 

As good as fully clothed, Chase grabbed his boots and settled on the bed, leaning towards Major.

"Got some good ones?” He asked, glancing at his screen curiously.

"Ooh, you want to see them, don't you? Sorry." Major snapped the lockscreen on and dropped the phone on the bed. "For private use only." He teased with a grin.

Chase snorted and shook his head, leaning away to focus on his boots again, fingers moving without much thinking. He could probably bind boots in his sleep.

"I didn't take anything too bad. Oh, I didn't take photos of you tonight either, if that's what you are worried about."

"Mm... I could just order you to give me your phone."

Major hummed lowly.

"You could. Or..."

Chase heard him shift, a hand on his back, then another one, then two slipping around to stroke his abs and chest, fingers gliding over his shirt, while Major's chest pressed against his back.

"We make it worth it." He whispered into his ear. "I ought to get you on that stripper brain. Think about it. The photos would look even better with you into it and I’d get a little show out of it and afterward…” He let his words trail off, just a tiny pause, probably hoping Chase would start imaging it, and started to nibble on his earlobe.

He didn't start imagining it. There was no way he would ever get on a stripper brain, but he didn't push back either. Rather the opposite. He let Major let go of his ear after another gentle nibble, let him start trail down kisses down along his neck, his hands moving, stroking. He really just wanted to... close his eyes, let go, and... When Major pulled on his shirt, fingers brushing along his skin for a second, Chase snapped out of it. He caught Major's hands in his, pulling them away gently.

“Not gonna happen.” He said softly while moving away a bit. "All of it." He added matter of factly. He wouldn't get on a damn stripper brain, not even for Major. Well, maybe for Major. On his birthday or something. When all their problems were dealt with. With no camera anywhere in sight. 

Major huffed and dropped back onto the bed. “You ain’t any fun. Why aren’t you more relaxed? We had a win yesterday, dammit.”

Chase snorted lowly, tugging his shirt back in. “My problems didn’t go away.”

“Not true. Russ and his fellows are out of the picture, quite literally. You need to do follow-ups with Bozzio, yes, but I can handle those, no big deal, and then, of course, interrogating Russ and -”

“As long as Renegade Two smuggles people into the city and turns them into zombies, the problem isn’t solved." He snapped, turning around to stare at Major. "We have too little brains to go around. Things will just get more fucked up with every new -” Chase finally stopped, before he could say even more. He couldn't take Major's happy babble. So full of hope he couldn't see.

Major stared at him, obviously taken aback.

“I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have…” He sighed lowly. “I am grateful, don’t get me wrong. You found them and put them down and I should shower you with praise for at least the next couple of days, better weeks, you can remind me if you think I’m slipping, but my problems didn't go away.”

Major didn’t reply. Just went on staring.

"What?" Chase asked, getting unnerved by getting stared at, especially by Major, especially in this room, especially in this way. "If you have something to say then say it."

But Major didn't. He just stared at him.

Chase held his gaze for a few seconds longer until he sighed lowly, turned away, finally finished binding his remaining boot, and got up.

He glanced at Major from the corner of his eyes. Still nothing, besides that odd look on his face.

"See you later." He said, grabbed the few belongings he really needed, key card, mobile phone, wallet, car keys, and left the room.

Why the damn had he snapped at him? Major didn't deserve it, most of all. He could have just let him babble on, smiled, pretended, like he always did, but... the _happiness_ in his voice... the expectation that they really _had_ achieved something... Something had snapped within him. He knew how very far away not worrying was, how unachievable not having problems was. By any chance, knowing his luck, something horrible had happened tonight and he just didn't know about it yet. Maybe a hungry zombie had snapped and killed an entire family. Yeah. Sounded about right. As if anything went smoothly lately.


End file.
